Night Train

There’s something uniquely comforting and wholly satisfying when I lie in bed at night and feel the train crying out into the silence. The blazing warning signal emitted into the night air preempts the reassurance that quickly comes with each and every thud-da, thud-da, thud-da. As its steel wheels rage upon the worn metal tracks, it speaks to me softly. The world lies dormant behind closed eyelids, but I am the sound of accomplishment, the sound of progress, the sound of security. And I tell myself, only I hear it, because—only I am listening.